


The Flower that is You has Bloomed

by TheLightinmySeoul



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Anorexia, Anxiety, Depression, Homophobia, Insomnia, M/M, Romance, Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-12
Updated: 2016-10-26
Packaged: 2018-05-26 05:50:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6226435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLightinmySeoul/pseuds/TheLightinmySeoul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jeonghan and Jihoon meet on a bridge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Nightshade

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone,
> 
> ... Where did this fic come from? I have no idea. I guess I haven't written angst in awhile and life is pretty frustrating, so all of it is being spilled into this fic. This will probably be one of the darkest stories I've written, but it will also have meaning and depth so I hope you get something out of reading this fic. The title, The Flower that is You has Bloomed, is based off of the Korean game and also the line in Mansae (why did I make Mansae depressing what is wrong with me). It will mainly focus on Jeonghan and Jihoon's friendship, though there will be relationship pairings in this as well. There is a huge trigger warning (mentions of suicide and suicidal behavior, depression, self-harm, anorexia) so please proceed carefully. I am not sure how much I will be updating as I'm trying to focus on Golden Boys but it will be much shorter so please take your time reading.
> 
> If anyone is feeling depressed or suicidal, please get help. You are special and important and loved. You are not alone. Please call 1-800-273-8255 if you need someone to talk to. And as always, I am here as well.
> 
> Thank you everyone for your support and I hope you enjoy.

 

 

It’s late.

 

Far past the time he should have returned to the dorm. Instead of safety tucked in bed he was walking along one of the bridges on the outskirts of Seoul. The moon hung high in the sky, shining mockingly down on him. At this time of night the world was blissfully quiet and the road empty, the only sound his own breathing and his heavy footsteps against the pavement. Although it was almost winter, he was dressed in only a pair of ripped skinny jeans and a leather jacket, and the cold wind biting at his bare skin and leaving his fingers numb. However the frigid air didn’t faze him as much as the words that tumbled through his mind.

 

_“You call that a live performance, Yoon Jeonghan? You may have a pretty face, but with a voice like that you have no right to even call yourself a singer. You’re useless and you’re bringing your whole team down. Get out of my face until you have something to offer.”_

The words cut sharp like a knife and burned like poison. But not because they were cruel, but because they were true.

 

Jeonghan was a singer. Leader of idol group Rose, he had trained for six years and with the sweat and tears he shed he had finally debuted. With only two years under their belt, they had already skyrocketed to fame in Korea and had reached worldwide recognition. But even as their fan base grew Jeonghan had never felt so alone.

 

Because as much as they proclaimed their adoration for him, he knew it was just an illusion. Like a scrape on the surface, it only ever reached so deep. Jeonghan was too far away and he knew love, such a fickle thing, could not be attained so easily.

 

But he reveled in it anyway. Their name was in headlines, their faces on every magazine cover. The fans screamed their names and their bank accounts doubled, then tripled. For a while he indulged himself in the grandeur and delusion of being a star in an empty sky, until reality brought him crashing to the ground and he realized stars didn’t shine forever.

 

He had gotten sick.

 

It started with the coughing.

 

As a singer Jeonghan’s throat was constantly sore, like swallowing sand paper, but when he started coughing up blood they knew there was a problem.

 

Cancer, that’s what they had told him.

 

_“You’re lucky we caught it soon enough, otherwise it could have spread. With treatment you should be able to live a long, healthy life. But as for singing…”_

He wouldn’t lose his voice. No, not that far, but enough that he’d never be able to sing again. The career that he’d built for himself from the bottom had been torn down in mere minutes. His dreams lay in a shattered mess on the floor that only made his feet bleed and his heart ache as he attempted to pick it up.

 

There would be nothing left of Yoon Jeonghan if he couldn’t sing.

 

Letting out a breathless laugh, Jeonghan stopped his mindless strides and leaned against the edge of the bridge railing. A dark expanse of water was spread out underneath him, cold and inviting.

 

“Are you happy?” Jeonghan yelled as the waves crashed hard against the metal structure, voice getting louder by the second. The wind seemed to blow harder in response but he paid no mind. “Are you happy that you can take everything away from me so easily?”

 

Furious, he yanked a half used pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket and shoved one in his mouth, shaking hands lighting the end. He closed his eyes and took a long drag, letting the smoke burn his lungs. “I wonder what would kill me first,” Jeonghan laughed, voice void of amusement as he tapped the butt of the cigarette against the cold metal railing, “Cancer or jumping from this bridge.” The answer was obvious but no one answered out loud. With a scowl he crushed the cigarette under the heel of his shoe.

 

For a few moments he let himself wallow in his misery, letting the cold air sting his skin, when his phone started ringing and interrupted his silence. With fervor he yanked the thing from his pants pocket and glared at the annoyingly bright screen. It was his manager calling. “Finally giving a shit?” Jeonghan snapped, cocking an eyebrow. “Well, you won’t have to worry about anything after tonight.” On a whim he pulled back his arm and chucked the phone as far as he could, the damn thing making a satisfying splash when it hit the water.

 

Skin burning, Jeonghan threw off his jacket before hoisting himself onto the railing. The wind whipped and yanked at his long hair but he didn’t care. It was almost like the breeze was calling to him and he was all too willing to answer.

 

_I’ll be there soon enough._

Jeonghan took one last look at the water and swung his feet back and forth, hands stiff and cold against the railing as he readied to jump. The dark abyss below him would provide a merciful end and he wouldn’t have to deal with any of the suffering. He wouldn’t have to lose everything one shattered piece at a time. But before he could brace himself and let go, the height sent an unwelcome pang of fear through his heart and for a second he paused. Was he really doing this? Did he even have the courage to?

 

 _Going to back out like the coward you are, Yoon Jeonghan?_ A dark voice in his mind mocked.

 

However before he could steel his nerve he saw something out of the corner of his eye.

 

Gripping the railing tight, Jeonghan leaned forward to get a better view. He was surprised when he spotted a figure sitting on the edge of the under hang beneath the bridge. It was a boy, probably not much younger than Jeonghan himself, though with his pale skin and young face he looked infinitely younger in comparison with his leather jacket and cigarettes.

 

The boy was dressed in only a thin t-shirt and jeans, with pale legs swinging gently in the wind and barefoot. His pale unblemished face shined in the moonlight and he had long locks of black that hung in his eyes, though it didn’t seem to bother him. He sat relaxed even at such a dizzying height, rather looking mournfully at the water crashing below him than concerned. Jeonghan couldn’t describe it in words, but he couldn’t help but feel that the boy felt lonely.

 

“Are you done yelling?”

 

Jeonghan jumped, grabbing tighter onto the railing out of reflex. He had thought the other boy hadn’t noticed him but he must have been wrong. The black haired boy didn’t even look up, his eyes never once leaving the river.

 

He opened his mouth to say something but a particular heavy wind pressed against his back and he shrank back against the railing. A look down made his stomach churn and a wave of lightheadedness hit him. He had always hated heights and the dizzying sight made all his previous courage slip through his fingers.

 

“Are you going to jump?” The boy asked. He had finally looked up and Jeonghan wondered just how young he was. He had the unblemished face of someone who still possessed youth, but there was exhaustion in the dark circles under his eyes and an emptiness that haunted his face. Compared to Jeonghan however there wasn’t a fragment of fear in his gaze.

 

Jeonghan scowled, trying to piece together his slowly disintegrating courage. “Maybe,” he snapped, but he didn’t sound confident at all.

 

A smile worked its way onto the other boy’s face but it was anything but kind. “If you aren’t then I would appreciate it if you left so I could have some peace and quiet.”

 

For once the great Jeonghan was at a loss for words. “A-are you going to jump?”

 

The boy turned away, back toward the water, but his voice dripped poison.” Maybe,” he said.

 

“Why do you want to jump?” Jeonghan wasn’t quite sure why he asked. He didn’t know the other boy, didn’t particular care, but with dread he realized maybe it was more for himself than anyone else.  He was acting out the part he hoped someone else would do for him.

 

At that the boy laughed. It wasn’t particularly kind or bright, but it made Jeonghan wonder what he would sound like if he was genuinely happy. “It’s not that I want to jump, but it would be easier if I did.”

 

“Huh?” Jeonghan was getting slightly lightheaded from the height that he didn’t quite understand the black haired boy.

 

The boy turned to him, cocking an eyebrow and even though Jeonghan hadn’t said anything it was almost like the boy understood. “You might be less woozy if you get off the ledge,” he said, a cynical type of amusement lacing his voice.

 

“No, continue,” Jeonghan snapped, shaking his head to regain his bearings.

 

He smiled, this time almost kind. He turned his dark eyes back to the water and swung his feet back and forth, almost like he was enjoying the danger. “It would be better if I jumped,” he explained patiently.

 

Jeonghan fixed his gaze on the night sky, letting the light from the moon distract himself from the water thrashing below. “Why is that?”

 

“You know, you’re quite curious about someone you’ve just met,” the boy snapped, turning defensive and almost cruel.

 

 “You’re quite disrespectful to people you’ve just met,” Jeonghan found himself replying.

 

“I’ve been told,” the boy said dryly and Jeonghan couldn’t help but chuckle.

 

The two lapsed into silence after that. However rather than awkward like he would have expected, the quiet was almost comforting. It was similar to the stillness between friends, a constant reassurance they were there beside you but without the need for words. It was a feeling Jeonghan could fall asleep to and he didn’t even know what the strangers name was.

 

“What about you?” Jeonghan glanced down at the question. Looking at his clothes again, Jeonghan couldn’t help but worry if he was cold. “Why do you want to jump?”

 

Jeonghan sighed and tapped his fingers along the railing, the metal singing in response to his touch. He was suddenly reminded of the dread in his stomach and the heavy weight on his shoulders, dragging him down. “Better now before everything goes to shit.”

 

The boy hummed in response, swinging his feet again. “But how do you know?”

 

At that Jeonghan glanced questioningly down at the boy. “What do you mean?”

 

All he got was a shrug in response. “If it hasn’t happened yet, how do you know it will?”

 

Jeonghan was at a loss. He simply didn’t respond, closing his mouth. When he looked down the water made him dizzy again.

 

“You still going to kill yourself?” Jeonghan called out, throat sore. He could feel a coughing attack coming.

 

When their gazes met the boy’s smile was bitter. “You kind of killed the mood.”

 

“… Do you want to get something to drink?”

 

 

Jeonghan got off the bridge first. He carefully fought against the increasing winds and swung his legs over the side of the railing until his feet touched solid ground again. He was disappointed in himself at the comfort that standing again made him feel. He was a coward. Trying to distract himself, he picked his leather jacket up off the ground as the black haired boy climbed deftly over the rails.

 

Now that they were face to face, the boy was a lot smaller than he had thought. Not only was he short, but he was tiny, with thin wrists that looked like they could break under his touch. His pale skin looked sickly up close and he looked like he hadn’t slept in days. Although he looked young there was a dejected misery that shone in his eyes and weighed down his face. His tone was sharp, but still, Jeonghan recognized kindness.

 

“What’s your name?” Jeonghan asked, staring as the boy stepped gently onto the pavement in his bare feet. The two extremities were already bruised and dirty, like he had walked miles without shoes.

 

“Jihoon.”

 

 

 


	2. Daffodils

 

 

Jihoon’s not quite sure how it happened but he somehow found himself sitting across from a complete stranger outside some dingy convenience store in the dead of night, nursing a cup of beer in numb fingers with a leather jacket that smelled of cigarette smoke wrapped around his shoulders.

 

After Jihoon had stepped back onto the pavement, the gritty texture digging into his bare feet, the long haired stranger had taken one look at his meager excuse for clothes and shoved his jacket into his hands. “Put it on,” the man had said gruffly, leaving no room for argument. Jihoon had merely done as told, too tired to argue. The jacket smelled horrible but it at least dulled the cold.

 

Determining that Jihoon was at least a little more protected from the weather, the man turned around and squatted down, motioning over his shoulder. “Get on.”

 

Jihoon could only stare in confusion, not quite understanding. They were on a bridge far on the outskirts of Seoul and it was a long trip to the nearest place that sold drinks at this hour. However the guy was persistent. He waved indignantly over his shoulder, “Come on. I don’t have all day.”

 

Almost smiling in amusement, Jihoon hesitantly leaned over the other man’s shoulders who easily hoisted him onto his back, getting a tight grip under his legs to carry him easier while Jihoon naturally locked his arms around his neck. The position was almost comfortable.

 

“You have a lot of hair,” Jihoon found himself saying. He winced only seconds later. All the adults had always said he had trouble controlling his mouth.

 

Rather than being insulted the man just chuckled. At least he found Jihoon’s disregard for manners amusing. “My name’s Jeonghan by the way,” the long haired man said as they walked in silence down the path of the bridge. The street wasn’t well lit but the moonlight illuminated their path. Their shadows followed, looking like an oddly shaped monster that stalked behind them. Jihoon would usually feel unnerved as he watched the shadows flicker around them but for some strange reason in the man’s arms he felt safe.

 

When they arrived at an old, downtrodden convenience store, the only thing lit up for miles at this hour, Jihoon was dozing off in Jeonghan’s arms with his head nestled into his shoulder. Jeonghan had to give him a little jostle to wake him up. Rubbing his eyes as Jeonghan let him gently to the ground, Jihoon went to take a seat in one of the plastic chairs out front while the taller man headed into the store.

 

Jeonghan returns shortly, two cups of steaming ramen in his hands and a six pack of beer. Jihoon wasn’t sure if he should tell the other that he wasn’t technically old enough to drink, but at the same time he didn’t think he would care. Jeonghan placed a cup of ramen in front of him and an already opened drink before taking a seat across from him.

 

The blonde haired man got comfortable in the chair, he leaned back and downed half the drink in seconds. Jihoon ignored the ramen in favor to pick up his own can, taking a hesitant sip. He had never drank before but what was better time than now? The alcohol was cold and bitter and he nearly spat out its contents, but forced the rough liquid down his throat with a grimace. It didn’t get better but at least it distracted him from his own mind.

 

“How old are you?”

 

Jihoon looked up from his drink, his head tipping to the side naturally. He took another long sip of beer and let it slide down his throat before he answered. “Seventeen, almost eighteen.”

 

Jeonghan’s eyes widened slightly and for a second Jihoon thought he may take his drink away, but the other merely took a deep swig from his own. “Senior in high school?” He questioned, staring at his can as he swirled the liquid inside.

 

“Yup,” Jihoon said, unable to keep the bitterness from his tone.

 

“Shouldn’t you be studying or something?”

 

Jihoon chuckled darkly. “I took the day off,” he responded sarcastically.

 

Jeonghan started eating some of his ramen, blowing on the hot noodles. “Are you going to class tomorrow?”

 

“Probably not.”

 

“Why? Are you going to try to jump again?” Jeonghan’s voice wasn’t accusing or cruel, rather just bluntly curious, like he was asking about the weather or what they were going to have for lunch tomorrow.

 

“Probably not,” Jihoon sighed, though it sounded more like the answer was almost unfortunate.

 

Jeonghan merely nodded, eating his noodles and looking thoughtful.

 

Jihoon picked up his beer, downing half the can and finishing it. “What about you?” He couldn’t pinpoint his age. His face was young and handsome, but with his hair pulled into a ponytail and his dark edgy clothes Jihoon thought he was older than he looked.

 

“Twenty four,” Jeonghan responded and Jihoon just hummed. A bit younger than he had suspected.

 

“Shouldn’t you be at work?” Jihoon teased sarcastically back.

 

Jeonghan smirked in his direction and Jihoon grinned in return. “Probably,” he joked before sighing, sitting back and placing his chopsticks on the table. A look of exhaustion crossed his face, like a dark shadow overhead. “We had a late schedule.”

 

Jihoon nodded but paused with a new can of beer inches from his mouth. He slowly put the cup down before leaning across the table to stare intensely at Jeonghan’s face. The older man cocked an eyebrow in his direction but Jihoon ignored the strange look. Yes, now he recognized him. “Yoon Jeonghan?” He asked bluntly. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t recognized him earlier. Yoon Jeonghan, leader of idol group Rose.

 

Jeonghan stiffened, body tensing up and fists clenching. Jihoon could almost see the panic building up, filling his lungs and looking for a way to escape. He opened his mouth, to say something, _anything_ , but nothing came out. Before he could bolt, Jihoon picked up his can of beer and smiled nonchalantly, “Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone,” he sighed, sitting back in his seat.

 

Jeonghan relaxed back into his seat, though there was still a look of wariness in his gaze. “Thanks.”

 

“Don’t mention it.”

 

A period of silence lapsed between them. Jihoon found that that happened between them a lot. With most people it would send alarm bells ringing because even though Jihoon liked silence, with people it felt suffocating, but with Jeonghan he was surprised how comfortable the quietness felt. It wasn’t empty, rather peaceful.

 

“So, about before,” Jeonghan said quietly, clearing his throat. The poor thing probably still felt awkward. He hadn’t expected to be ousted as a public figure to some random kid on the street who had just seen him trying to kill himself. Jihoon was almost apologetic. “What did you mean when you said it would be better if you jumped?”

 

Jihoon exhaled slowly and placed his hands on the table. The guy sure was curious. Jihoon was usually a private person, he was the type to keep everything to himself, and in a normal situation he would have told the other to fuck off long ago, but well, he was with interesting company in an interesting situation. He wasn’t sure why but he found it surprisingly easy to talk with Jeonghan. Maybe it was the thought that he wasn’t the only one. That he wasn’t alone.

 

“If I wasn’t here a lot of things would be much better off than they are now.”

 

“Like?”

 

“Someone very special to me would be much happier,” Jihoon finally spoke, guilt weighing down his words. He thought of Chan with his bright smiles and kind heart and squashed down the image before the tears rose to his eyes.

 

“How do you know?”

 

Jihoon looked up, stunned. The older boy had a coy smile on his face, but it was soon replaced by one of calm seriousness. “Your words, not mine Jihoon. How do you know things would be better?”

 

Jihoon let out an incredulous chuckle. This guy sure was a piece of work. “That, I know for a fact,” he corrected. He licked his lips before continuing. It must be the alcohol that was making his lips so loose. “I’m an orphan,” he admitted bluntly. “Have been for a while. I always thought, you know, maybe one day I will be adopted, I just need to wait for the right time! But it never happened. Weeks turned into months, which turned into years. And here I am. Almost eighteen about to get kicked out onto the street,” he laughed humorlessly.

 

“I lost my chance long ago. But my best friend… His name is Chan. He’s very special to me. Probably the only good thing left in my life. He’s only fifteen.  He still has time, but this kid has some stupid idea in his head that he doesn’t want to be adopted. Adoption is every orphan’s dream! But he keeps fucking up his chances because for some deluded reason that he wants to stay with me.” Jihoon could only shake his head, staring daggers into his untouched ramen. “That kid’s lost a lot of good chances, and if I weren’t here he’d probably be snatched up on the spot. Be happy somewhere living in a better place with nice, perfect parents to take care of him. Not sleeping in some pathetic orphanage dreaming of living with me.”

 

Jeonghan only nodded slowly, taking his time to respond as he chewed thoughtfully on his noodles. His were already almost gone while Jihoon’s had turned cold. “Don’t you think he’d miss you?” He asked curiously.

 

Jihoon stared blankly in his direction. “Doesn’t matter. He’d get over it. Get himself a nice family and forget all about me.”

 

“But wouldn’t you miss him?”

 

Jihoon sighed in frustration, clenching his fists on the table. “Doesn’t matter,” he snapped a bit more forcefully. "Well? What about you? From the way you’re dressed and to that phone call earlier, there are people that care about you,” he said, unable to keep the spite leaking into his voice. “Plus, you’re Yoon Jeonghan, famous idol star. There are hundreds of thousands of people who love you.”

 

Jeonghan merely sighed, closing his eyes. “Not for long,” he said tiredly.

 

Jihoon cocked an eye curiously, trying to stem his anger. He shouldn’t be taking his own feelings out on the only person who had given a shit.

 

“Let’s just say that I’m going to be losing all of that very soon.”

 

Jihoon slowly narrowed his eyes. “As we seem to have been repeating, how do you know?”

 

Jeonghan slapped his hands down on the table, irritated. “I just know!” He snapped.

 

The two glared at each other heatedly over the table before Jeonghan finally sat back down, running a hand angrily through his hair. He picked up his chopsticks and slurped down the rest of his ramen. “Eat,” he huffed.

 

Jihoon sighed before obliging, picking up his chopsticks almost regretfully. He took a small bite of the ramen and could only cringe at the taste. The noodles were cold and slimy and it didn’t help that food in general tasted like dirt. But under the watchful eye of the older he ate a few more bites, trying to keep the bile down in his throat and prevent himself from puking on Jeonghan’s expensive clothes.

 

“What are you going to do then?” Jihoon said after a few bites, using words to distract from eating. He pushed the cup away from him, feeling nauseous. “Going to try again tomorrow?”

 

Jeonghan took their trash since it seemed Jihoon wasn’t going to finish his and threw it away in a nearby garbage can. When he returned to their table he looked even more exhausted than before. “I don’t know. I guess probably not,” he scoffed, “If you didn’t notice I was pretty cowardly up there. Nearly died from a heart attack instead.”

 

Jihoon laughed lightly, amused. He wasn’t too fond of heights himself but when he had sat on the ledge, legs dangling behind him and breeze ruffling his hair, he hadn’t felt scared. Instead it had given him a weird sense of calm to stare down at the rapid waves, ready to die. But now, far away from the bridge, his anxiety was slowly coming back, like shadows climbing up his legs to swallow him whole. The convenience store lights kept them at bay but soon they’d reach his mind and then it’d be too late to escape.

 

“You don’t need to be brave enough to jump off a bridge,” Jihoon said quietly, staring at a particularly annoying flickering street light above them. “You need to be more scared of everything else.”

 

Jeonghan stared at him for a moment before pointing his beer in the direction of the other boy. “You’re quite eloquent for a kid.”

 

“Thanks,” Jihoon replied sarcastically. He reached to take another beer but Jeonghan took it from his hands.

 

“I may have let you have one but you’re still underage. At least one of us has got to have some responsibility,” Jeonghan said.

 

Jihoon only rolled his eyes before taking Jeonghan’s own can, taking a long drink just to annoy the blonde.

 

“I know I told you this already but you’re pretty disrespectful to someone you’ve just met,” Jeonghan said bluntly though Jihoon could recognize there was no malice in his tone.

 

Jihoon raised his can. “Cheers.”

 

 

Jihoon was just starting to fall asleep, nestled in the safety of a warm leather jacket, when a car came skidding to a stop next to them and a horn interrupted the silence of the night. He looked up in annoyance as the dark van’s windows rolled down and two heads popped out of the back seat.

 

“Yoon Jeonghan, there you are!”

 

Jihoon watched in confusion as the people in the backseat struggled to fit two people through the window. The front window rolled down as well and a young man with blonde frizzy hair pointed accusingly in his direction.

 

“Yah, why haven’t you been answering your phone? I’ve been calling you for hours!”

 

Across from him Jeonghan blinked in confusion before reaching down to his pocket. He stopped when he realized he had lost his phone when he had thrown it into the river and he glanced almost guiltily in the car’s direction. “Sorry Soonyoung, I think I lost my phone.”

 

A boy in the backseat groaned, throwing his head into his hands. “Not again!”

 

“Hey!” Jeonghan said indignantly, “This is the first time I lost my phone! Seokmin’s lost his phone four times already!”

 

“But if you lose it too then our manager is never going to buy me another one again!”

 

“Then that’s your problem now, isn’t it?”

 

Jihoon wasn’t quite sure what was going on but for some reason a bunch of kids are having a screaming match in the streets in the middle of the night. He sighed, nestling back into his chair. There went his plans for a peaceful nap. They might get arrested at this rate.

 

“Come on, get in the car. Manager doesn’t know you’re missing yet and I don’t want him to figure it out.” Soonyoung said from the driver’s seat. Belatedly Jihoon realized that the rest of this group must be the other four members of Rose.

 

Jeonghan half stood out of his chair before he paused. He turned towards Jihoon who was half curled up in the plastic chair resting his head on his hand. “Go,” Jihoon said tiredly, waving his hand and finishing his cup of beer. Maybe if they left he could get some sleep.

 

“Who’s that?” One of the boy’s in the back asked but no one answered him.

 

Jeonghan bit his lip before striding toward him, taking the can from his hands and placing it on the table. Jihoon glared at him but Jeonghan ignored the taunt. “Do you have anywhere to stay tonight?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Jeonghan eyed the other boy’s bare feet. “Do you want to go back there tonight?”

 

“… No.”

 

“Come with me.”

 

At that, Jihoon laughed. It was almost genuine. “You don’t even know me.”

 

Jeonghan shrugged, running his hand through his hair. Sometime in the last few hours Jeonghan had become familiar to Jihoon, more comfortable than almost all the people in his life. And it was something that Jihoon wasn’t sure he wanted to lose just yet. “Your name is Jihoon. You’re seventeen and a high school senior and an orphan. Your best friend is Chan and you want to kill yourself.” He said the words very quietly between them, like it was their secret. Jihoon respected him for that.

 

Jihoon could only chuckle bitterly. “I could be a serial killer for all you know?”

 

Jeonghan smiled, already knowing he had won. He stuck his hand out and Jihoon sighed before taking it. Jeonghan’s fingers were cold but his grip was warm and comfortable. With strength he pulled Jihoon to his feet and wrapped the jacket more snugly around his shoulders.

 

“I’ll take that risk.”

 

 

 


	3. Anthurium

Jeonghan stepped inside the van, folding the middle seats forward so Jihoon could slip in behind him and take a seat in the empty corner of the backseat. It was obviously an idol van; black with tinted windows, the fabric seats worn and used, and empty containers and trash in bags on the floor. The long haired male squeezed in beside him, resolutely ignoring the weight of his bandmates gazes on his back. He knew they were curious but this was not the time for discussion.

 

After entering the car Jihoon seemed to deflate and close in on himself, his previous defiant attitude fading away to be replaced by a timid shell of himself. He curled up in on himself in the corner of the car, knees up and chin tucked to his chest. His face was turned toward the window and Jeonghan could see a dark cloud hanging over him in the reflection of the window. The fire was gone and Jihoon seemed to look even tinier than he was.

 

Jeonghan caught Soonyoung staring at him through the rear view mirror but once the occupants were buckled in, he turned on the engine and began pulling out. That was what Jeonghan liked about him. He knew the younger was curious, but Soonyoung was intuitive and knew when to trust him.

 

Bitterly, Jeonghan thought Soonyoung probably would have made a better leader than him.

 

“Were you smoking?” Seungkwan, their youngest member and just a third year high schooler, asked bluntly, breaking the silence and looking thoroughly disgusted. He waved his hand around to dissipate the rough smell of smoke as Seokmin rolled down the windows to air out the van. Jeonghan didn’t smoke often but when he did none of the other members were ever happy about it.

 

“No smoking in the dorms,” Soonyoung murmured absentmindedly, pulling a tight corner and tearing down the street.

 

“Smoking’s very bad for your health Jeonghan,” Seokmin reported as a matter of fact, “It could ruin your voice.”

 

Jeonghan visibly flinched, nails digging into his skin. Jihoon looked up.

 

“By the way, who’s that? Are we dropping him off somewhere?” Seungkwan asked, leaning around the seat to get a closer look at their passenger. At the sudden attention, Jihoon turned back to the window, curling tighter into Jeonghan’s jacket with his long bangs falling into his eyes.

 

“Yeah, who is he?” Seokmin quipped curiously. The two were quite harmless but they looked like wolves circling their prey in this light.

 

“Let’s keep quiet until we get back to the dorm,” Soonyoung said. It wasn’t a suggestion. Even as the most easygoing of the three older members, Jeonghan could tell from his rigid shoulders and his tight grip on the steering wheel that he was tense. Jeonghan felt a wave of guilt hit him. Once again, Soonyoung was cleaning up after him. If the group got caught outside of the dorm at this time of night it would be because of him.

 

“Hey, why should I be quiet-”

 

Jeonghan hadn’t realized Wonwoo was awake. The younger male had turned around in the passenger seat and shoved his hand over their youngest member’s mouth, effectively cutting off his chatter. “Seungkwan, be quiet. Some of us are trying to sleep.” He snapped gruffly.

 

Seungkwan pouted but finally seemed to realize the atmosphere. He quieted down, slinking into his seat and pulling out his phone to distract himself. Jeonghan caught the unnerving stare that Wonwoo directed at him before turning around in his seat, pulling his hat back over his eyes.

 

Soonyoung broke the silence by turning on the stereo. Obnoxious dubstep filled the van and although the pounding base gave him a headache, it distracted Jeonghan from his own thoughts. He knew the kids had a right to be curious, but Jeonghan had his own secrets to protect. Telling them would just make them worry, there wasn’t anything they could do for him anyway.

 

Sick of drowning in his own thoughts, Jeonghan curled into the seat and closed his eyes, letting the thrum of music fill his veins. He wouldn’t be able to sleep but maybe he could find solace in his own mind with the one thing he had left.

 

They arrived back at the dorms quickly since the roads were empty and Soonyoung drove like a maniac. Once they had parked the van carefully it had become a secret mission to sneak back into the dorm without their manager knowing. The small group quickly alighted the stairs with practiced ease and entered the dorm before anyone was any wiser.

 

“I managed to trick Manager Do, but just make sure you’re here in the morning,” Soonyoung reported to Jeonghan with a mischievous grin. Sometimes Jeonghan thought the younger boy enjoyed the thrill.

 

A small thankful grin was all Jeonghan could return before he turned toward their unexpected guest. Seokmin and Seungkwan were loitering around, trying to take a good look at Jihoon who stood awkwardly in the middle of the living room, tapping his foot against the floor.

 

“Come on.” On a whim, Jeonghan grabbed Jihoon by the wrist and pulled him toward his own room. The other four had paired up which left their leader with his own room. Jihoon let out a small hiss at being grabbed but otherwise followed quietly.

 

Jeonghan’s bedroom was grand. It was the largest, with a glass window spanning across one wall and pale gray walls. New, almost untouched furniture filled the room; a leather couch and TV on one side, and a king sized bed on the other. The only part of the room that looked lived in was the far corner, where an electric keyboard, bass guitar and a computer were placed. Scribbled on pieces of sheet music were thrown around on the floor, along with half opened fan gifts and empty cans of beer.

 

Jeonghan walked immediately to the closet, pulling out blankets and some extra pillows. “You take the bed,” he said, laying out the blankets on the rug.

 

Jihoon shot him a look. When it was just the two of them Jihoon didn’t seem to hide as much. He cocked an eyebrow. “I’m not the one with cancer.”

 

Jeonghan glared at him, glancing at the door. The kids didn’t know and he didn’t want them to. He had half a mind to just agree, but no matter how much of a brat Jihoon was being he wouldn’t relent. “Just do it.” He pulled some old clothes from a drawer and threw them at the shorter boy. “Change and go to bed. I’m going to grab something to drink.”

 

Ignoring Jihoon’s irate response, Jeonghan left the room and closed the door behind him. Unsurprisingly, Soonyoung was sitting at the kitchen table with Wonwoo slouched across from him. Thankfully the kids were asleep. Soonyoung motioned for Jeonghan to sit down and once he was comfortable he pushed a cup of warm tea in his direction.

 

“So, where were you?” Soonyoung asked, calm and nonjudgmental as always. Wonwoo was, as usual, deceptively quiet.

 

“Just out,” Jeonghan responded. The three of them may be the older members, but he was their senior by three years. They were still kids in his eyes and they didn’t need to be burdened by what was going on in Jeonghan’s life.

 

Soonyoung’s gaze only showed disappointment. “Jeonghan, I know you’re having a hard time lately, but we can’t help if you don't tell us what’s going on.”

 

“Nothing’s going on.” The lie was so comfortable on his tongue that he barely realized it was anything but the truth.

 

But Soonyoung didn’t look like he believed him. Sometimes Jeonghan wished he would just believe the lies like everyone else did. “I know management has been pressuring you into writing the new album, but you need to take care of yourself.The group will get through this,” he urged, attempting a comforting smile. He leaned forward and made to grab Jeonghan by the hand. “Listen, Jeonghan, I know you haven’t been sleeping-”

 

Jeonghan ripped his hands out of Soonyoung’s grasp and stood up, nearly throwing the chair backwards. “I’m fine Soonyoung! God, stop acting like you know everything and stay out of my life!”

 

The table went quiet. His hands were shaking and he could hear the blood rushing through his veins. They didn’t know anything.

 

Wonwoo stood as well, his chair scraping against the floor. There was a vein of disgust in his gaze. “Give it up, Soon. He obviously doesn’t want our help so why do we even try.” His tone was cold, as it always was in regards with Jeonghan. The two had never been close, and there was always a vast distance between them that Jeonghan had grown too tired to breach.

 

Jeonghan stared at the light fixture so he didn’t have to look at the disappointment in Soonyoung’s gaze. “Are we done?” He snapped, clutching his shirt to stop his hands from shaking.

 

“Who is that boy?”

 

Jeonghan bit his lip.

 

“... Jeonghan. I’m doing this for the team. If he’s going to be staying here I need to know.”

 

“He’s just a high school kid,” Jeonghan snapped defensively. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of him.”

 

Soonyoung merely sighed, standing up himself. He reached out and placed a warm hand on Jeonghan’s shoulder. He flinched. “You know we just want to help.”

 

Jeonghan turned away, out of his grasp. “I don’t need your help.”

 

Jeonghan had to resist slamming the door to his room. Instead, he closed his eyes and slid down the door, rubbing his eyes and cursing himself. God damn, he had let his emotions get ahold of him again. What was he becoming.

 

“You okay?”

 

Jeonghan looked up. Jihoon was sitting cross legged on his bed. He had changed into Jeonghan’s old clothes that dwarfed his size. Exhaustion was weighing him down, the days events catching up to him and showing in his gaze.

 

Jeonghan avoided his eyes, instead turning to shut the door and lock it. For some reason, Jeonghan could tell Jihoon was able to read him better than anyone else he had ever met. It was almost dangerous. “I’m fine. Go to bed.”

 

Jihoon visibly rolled his eyes. “You know, I’m sure if you told your band mates that you’re going to die they wouldn’t hate you. Hell, they may even be supportive,” he said, bluntly sarcastic and unforgiving.

 

Jeonghan merely shot him a glare. “You don’t know anything,” he snapped, repeating what had been haunting him all day.

 

Jihoon, for as small as he was, didn’t back down. “I do know that keeping your illness a secret isn’t protecting anyone.”

 

The words left his tongue before he could control himself. “What about you then, huh?” Jeonghan growled accusingly. “You’re the one running away from someone who loves you.”

 

Jihoon’s gaze was murderous. He was on his feet within seconds, fists clenched at his sides and body nearly shaking from anger. “I don’t know why I even came here. Two fucked up strangers together isn’t better than one,” he hissed. He looked away, “And I’m not the only one running.”

 

But before he could shove past Jeonghan the older man caught him by the wrist. He didn’t look at him.

 

“... It’s late. Stay the night.”

 

Silence stretched between them. After a moment Jeonghan let his hand slip from his fingers, slowly walking over to his makeshift bed and lying down. There was a tense moment before the lights shut off and Jihoon padded back into the room and climbed into bed.

 

Jeonghan pulled the covers over his head already knowing he wouldn’t sleep.

 

“Goodnight Jihoon.”

 

“... Goodnight Jeonghan.”

 

 

 

Jeonghan awoke to a sharp pain in his chest that rendered him unable to breathe. He shot up, clutching at his throat as horrible coughs wracked his body and stars danced across his eyes. He hadn’t even known he had fallen asleep, but the soft sounds of Jihoon’s breathing had lured him into dreamland.

 

The sound of the bed creaked and suddenly someone was beside him, handing him a cold cup of water and soothingly rubbing his back. Jeonghan downed it, trying to keep the bile from coming up his throat. The comforting hand moved to his head and hesitantly began to stroke his hair.

 

Jeonghan closed his eyes, trying to catch his breath and calm his rapid heart rate.

 

“Sleep,” Jihoon whispered in the dark, gently lowering him to the ground.

 

Tears leaked out the corner of his eyes but Jihoon didn’t stop brushing his hair, pulling the covers back over his chest. The comforting rhythm lulled him to sleep, a calm settling in his mind and dragging him down until reality couldn’t touch him anymore.


End file.
